So Murph is one of those infamous Hero WODs. For good reason. Here’s what you’re doing for time:
1 mile Run
1 mile Run
And if you’re crazy tough, you do all of this wearing a 20lb weighted vest.
My box canceled all classes on Memorial Day to offer everyone the chance to try Murph. I’d been eyeing it for a week or so, but couldn’t bring myself to sign up. The reps felt a little out of my newbie league.
But wait — I finally noticed for this special WOD they’d let us partner up to split the reps. SOLD. I immediately messaged my awesome athlete friend and she was game— after making sure I wasn’t lying about the rep splitting thing.
How it went:
We’re in heat two of three and I’m nervous even though this new rep scheme isn’t nearly as daunting as full Murph. But pre-WOD nerves seems to be true for any workout when you’re staring at the whiteboard. It always seems impossible. Having a strategy of attack usually helps me get my focus back.
Ours is to partition the reps into 10-20-30 and divide in two if we start to give. A quick warm up in the loading dock and it’s on.
The first run is a good warm up. Feeling good. Then I join the mayhem in the box. It takes me a second to even find my buddy amid all the chaos. The pull up bars are earning their keep. Bands, bodies, boxes everywhere and me with one eye peeled for the only combination that’s going to work: the green band dangling above the tallest box. Without the band, there’s no way I can handle 50 pull ups. Without the tall box, there is no way this short, inflexible leg is going to successfully connect foot to band.
I’m able to (luckily) grab that magic spot on the bar for all 5 rounds of pull ups although a kind person still has to help me get that damn band around my foot twice. The reps (and pace) are rough but when they’re over I feel surprisingly better than I thought I would. Maybe it was due to the rest day I forced myself to take on Sunday. Whatever. Time to get back out there.
I head out the door for run #2 with the intent of a faster dash than #1.
400 meters in and I realize, this is no dash. It’s a slow, chug/jog. The last 800 my brain starts coaxing me to walk. “This is crazy. Just walk for 10 seconds. It’ll be so much better than this.”
I want to give in so bad but instead I think about why I’m actually doing this. Hero WODs remind us of those who don’t give up but end up giving everything. It works. That little voice in my head has nothing to say to that and suddenly I’m only 400 meters from the cheering box mates at the finish line.
I pound out that last 400 meters with new energy and collapse on the floor with my bud. Big high fives. Big smiles. This is the face of teamwork!